FaceBook and Fynn

Perhaps after 2 glasses of merlot, I should not be posting but...

A.) I am waiting for my teenage daughter to tell me she's safe and sound (homecoming this weekend). and

B.) I feel like ranting. (So, please bear with me or skip this post and read on Monday.)





I recently succumbed, as is usual, to the social pressure of joining Facebook. A social networking sight? Sure, I'll give it a shot. I signed up. I saw faces I haven't seen in years-my curiosity piqued. But then, I wonder.....



1. Does anyone feel as if they are collecting friends? I feel a bit as if I'm collecting Garbage Pail Kids again--whoever has the most wins???



2. I've no interest in sipping virtual martinis, owning an e-pet, that yes, demands to be walked just like the real thing. I've got two breathing dogs that if they could talk would complain like hell that we don't do it enough.



3. I'm really not sure what to do with it. (And I'm pretty positive that I'm not going to post what I'm thinking every hour for everyone to see....) If I haven't talked to someone in 15 years, do they really care to hear how I'm feeling today? Probably not.



4. Has anyone's life been significantly affected by FaceBook? Seriously, I'd like to know.



5. We fall out of touch with people for one reason or another, I get it. But ponder this..I don't live anywhere near my parents but yet, somehow, they always know where I live and the general sense of how my life is going. Why? Because they care about me enough to know where I am and what I'm doing. Hmmm???



6. Ok, so why don't I just choose not to particpate? Well, I like to see the family pictures of those I've kept in touch with. You're right, I'll stop bitching and just go with it.



And so we get to the other "F" word in this post...Fynn.






Another baby is born which gives me an excuse to sew. (Been wanting to try the scalloped edges from "Bend the Rules Sewing"-mine got a bit cloudlike but..I didn't buy the book and was trying to use my memory. Yes, good luck with that.)

Fynn, as you may have guessed, is the baby. I forgot how much fun it was to back stitch. (Wow, really livin' up over here..) but there is something to be said about creating a row of stitches by hand.

It soothes me in some strange way. ( I can hardly recall what my issues with FaceBook were..oh yes, collecting friends.)

Ok, so I'll think of it as a way to get back in touch, to see where our lives have taken us. I will still, however, refuse to drink or trade martinis.

I'll backstitch in my head and consider just taking it for what it's worth.